Fallen
by snowsgirl
Summary: The fall of Rome. It's bound to happen, kids. Seriously. Just don't shoot me for writing it.


Ack. This is just horribly sad. I'm soooo sorry... I knew this is pretty much accurate, right? I mean, there were other things that brought the fall of Rome... don't get me wrong, I know this sort of thing. That's always been one of my favorite topics, the ancient civilizations... but man... I don't even know. Hahaha...

**XxXxXxX**

This was it. The Roman Empire was on its last legs. Germania would see to it himself. Those were direct orders from his boss, of course, because while he may have been able to slaughter his way into power, he could hardly bring himself to murder his only real friend. But it was the only choice he had. Better to make it quick. And while he was at it, get his little grandson out of the way, too. He didn't have to see.

Rome and little Italy were sitting by the edge of a river, both dangling their feet in the water. Really, Rome had been planning on teaching his grandson better fishing skills, but it didn't seem to be turning out exactly as planned. Somehow they had both lost interest and were simply enjoying the day as it was. Until Rome gave a heavy sigh. He didn't really want to give this talk to his grandson when he was so young, but…

"Italy…" he said, for once very serious.

"Hm?" asked the little boy sweetly, tilting his head to the side innocently, and looking up at his grandfather.

"You know, Italy," he started. "I'm not going to be around forever… I know you're only a little nation right now, but, I'm getting older, you know…"

Yeah, this was every bit as depressing as he thought it would be.

"What do you mean?" asked Italy, confused.

Behind them in the bushes, Germania was waiting very patiently, not in any position to strike, but if need be, he may. No, for now, he would just watch, and wait. It was unfair not to give any kind of warning to his old friend. Rome wouldn't be able to detect him if he surprised him. He may have been a fierce warrior, but his skills were slowly deteriorating, and Germania was always much better at moving stealthily than his loud and excitable companion.

"Well, sometimes, people go away for a very long time, and they never come back. Do you know what I mean?" asked Rome.

Italy's face scrunched together as he thought. "Are you going on a trip, Grandpa Rome?"

Rome chuckled a little, and patted his grandson on the head. "Something like that. Listen, if anything ever happens to me, do you know what to do?"

Italy shook his head quickly. What on earth was he talking about?

"Well, if you're ever alone… when I'm gone…" began Rome. "Go find your brother. I know you've never met him before, but he'll at least try take care of you. If not… well… you always have others you can rely on."

Italy's eyes widened. "But you said I could never see any of them again!"

"Times have changed, Italy. Don't worry about what I said before. You'll be safe."

A brief silence followed his words.

"I don't understand," said Italy.

"I know." Rome opened his arms. "Come here, Italy."

Italy pulled his feet out of the water and jumped into his grandpa's lap, and they shared one of those long embraces that only people within family have. He didn't understand at all what his grandpa could possibly be talking about, but he knew it must be very sad. He could see from Rome's face that something was not right.

Germania couldn't take it.

"Rome," he said, revealing himself to the two.

His face was solemn as ever, but there was a twist of pain to his gaze that shook Rome's nerves harshly.

"Italy, I want you to go home now. Can you do that?" he asked.

Italy looked at his grandfather's face. He wasn't smiling. "Why? Is something bad going to happen?"

"Maybe. Please, don't make me ask you again, Italy, you have to go home. Your home, with your older brother."

Italy looked confused, but nodded, squeezing his grandfather one last time, and ran off into the trees.

Germania wished he hadn't followed them, but it was far too late now.

"You've been sent to kill me, haven't you?" asked Rome.

The blond nation could feel a lump rising in his throat. "…Yes."

"Well, I knew this would happen one day…" Rome muttered. "Alright, go ahead."

"That's it?" asked Germania. "No questions? No last requests? And you're giving up without a fight?"

Rome thought for a moment. "Pretty much. I'm too old for this, now. This world's probably had enough of the Roman Empire anyway. I guess it's time for a change, right?"

"I don't want to do this to you," started Germania, taking a deep breath. "Especially not if you're going to beg me to kill you."

"Who's begging? I'm just allowing you to carry out orders without interfering," said Rome.

He got on his knees, and then pointed to his heart. "Make it quick, alright?"

Inwardly, Germania cursed himself violently. How the hell was he supposed to handle a situation like this? This wasn't what he planned at all. He found himself drawing his sword anyway.

"I guess I'll be seeing you again, won't I?" he asked. "After all, nothing lasts forever."

Rome smiled sadly. "That's true. Alright, that's a promise, okay? As soon as you get there, you'll find me?"

Germania just nodded.

"We'll go drinking again, like we used to?"

"Of course."

"Alright. Then come on, let me have it."

Germania lifted his sword, and ran his friend through very anticlimactically. He closed his eyes at the very last minute, as soon as the blade made contact, however, and he didn't realize till he was all the way through that his vision was blurred by hot, stinging tears.

Another thing he failed to notice, he realized a few moments later as he pulled the sword out of his now stone-dead friend, was an unfortunate presence. He might not have noticed it at all if he hadn't heard the soft whimper turn into a quiet bawling. If there was one thing he'd learned from his own grandsons, it's that children cry loudly when they want attention. When they cry silently, it's because they just can't stop.

Germania didn't dare turn to look at Italy. That would only make it worse. He was sure he was gone. Why couldn't he have done what he was told? He cleaned his sword off slowly, wincing as he imagined how the young nation behind him must be feeling.

"I'm sorry," he said finally, still not looking at him. "I was only following orders. Your grandfather was a great man, and my best friend. Please do as he said now, and leave. And please, whatever you do, try to forget about this."

Italy couldn't speak. With a heavy sob, he turned around swiftly and ran away with tears streaming down his cheeks.

For the first time, Germania did something unexpected. He knelt on the ground next to his friend's body, and prayed.

"I don't know if you'll listen to me," he started. "I don't really believe in all this, and I probably won't make a habit of prayer, but… I want him to be safe. I know he recently changed religions… I might not be into that, but…"

What was he supposed to say?

"Also, for Italy…"

He couldn't think of anything else. He felt horrible. But there was nothing to be done.

Germania's eyes fluttered open, and he looked at Rome silently for a few moments. He picked a nearby flower somewhat absentmindedly and placed it over the wound.

What did they do in Rome when they say goodbye? Oh… that's right…

He looked around to be absolutely sure nobody was watching. He knew nobody was though, but it was probably safer.

He leaned down and gently placed a kiss on both cheeks.

Yes, he believed that was right. Although that may have just been a greeting. It was hard for him to say, though, he had a lot of trouble understanding Rome.

Then he stood, turned away, and walked back the direction he'd come from.

Hell, he'd actually done it.


End file.
